you weren't the hero this time, but you were a winner
by Poetic-Drug
Summary: "Maybe long ago, the Avatar was a benevolent being, isolated from society and freed from any Earthly tether. But right now, none of that is alive. You are, Korra. You are alive, you survived, and you will continue to live. Remember that you may not have been the hero of this story, but you were a winner."


**pairings: **mild Korrasami

**warnings:** book 3 spoilers

**a/n: **Takes place after the finale of Book 3. I've been meaning to write about Korrasami for a while, and I hope I have Asami's character alright. I'm not too used to writing in first person. Hope you enjoy!

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First impressions aren't everything; I learned that from my mother in the earlier days of my youth. Back when I thought the world was free, and protection came easy. Even with her passing and my father's disownment of me, I still hold their lessons back then dear to me.

When I first met Korra, she was incredible. Stubborn to a fault, impulsive to an irritating degree, but still incredible. It wasn't hard to see why Mako was so taken with her, not difficult to figure out the reasoning behind Bolin's enamourment. Her expressions said more than enough about how she felt about you, but what she could achieve with that wild reasonings of hers were more than admirable. Justice was her blood, self-doubt was something she pushed away for the sake of helping others.

And even with everything that had happened between us, she was my friend. My best, darling Korra, had named me her friend.

So to see her like this, so broken, so silent…

Korra had requested for me to wheel her away after the festivities of Jinora's ceremony. I could see Tenzin's expression—Aang's personality were alive in his daughter's face. Everyone beamed with pride. But Korra…

She was crying.

Korra could cry, that was no secret. She bore no shame in crying over those she cared about. But when it came to her own insecurities, she would hide away, sink into some cold corner of the Earth to weep, until the only evidence of such was the sad droop of a flower, who had accepted her tears to sustain their own lives.

And now, I can only watch as she stares out at that sunset. It's colours are brilliant; with blazing oranges, one could mistake the sun benders dancing amongst the clouds, weaving their abilities into the skies until their mark on the world was made clear once again.

But her beautiful eyes don't shine. Don't even glint with excitement. They just… look.

"…You can leave."

Her voice breaks my thoughts, shatters them, and I glance back at her. She doesn't look back at me.

"I'm not leaving you alone, Korra." I'm not one for ambiguity—Mako's relationship with me disproved that my remarks were anything but equivocal—but there were times when implied comfort could work wonders. Korra seems to have caught wind of this, for her eyes widen slightly. For a minute, I think she will look at me, but they just settle back into that tired gaze again.

"I'm not completely weak. I can wheel myself back to my room."

"I never said you were weak, Korra. I've never said that, never once thought it."

And this is a phrase I have repeated to her for a while, now. For the past two weeks, I've barely left her. And whilst I know her parents are here, Iknow Mako and Bolin and everyone are here for her… I want to take care of her. It breaks my heart to see her like this, but my pain is nothing compared to hers right now.

But she doesn't say anything again. Korra just closes her eyes, and settles her head back against the wheelchair. Her hands are neatly folded in her lap, in a way that isn't Korra.

"Harmonic Convergence sure has given us quite the beautiful views now, haven't they?" Her eyes open, and I see it as a gateway to continue conversation, "I mean, the sunsets are beautiful normally, but since the portals were opened, it's like… they've grown brighter."

"Brighter doesn't always mean better."

_Ouch_.

Her voice is just so…tired.

_Korra… you're aware of my existence, but you don't even know I'm here, do you? Here for you. _

And I will help her. In anyway I can. No matter how small, no matter how seemingly insignificant, I will be here for her.

"I know. Brighter doesn't always mean better. Maybe long ago, golden horses pulled the chariots of Spirits that painted the skies, cleansing the echoes of war and sin for one more day."

That get's a small, tiny smile. "That's some crazy logic, Asami."

"After everything I've learned about, it's a wonder my mind is still intact." I joke in return, but kneel down to her side, and place a hand to her cheek. "Korra…maybe long ago, the Avatar was planned to a benevolent being, isolated from society and freed from any Earthly teather. But now, none of that is alive. That's not the truth of today. But you live in a new truth, Korra. You are alive, you survived the fall, and you will continue to live. Remember that you may not have been the hero of this story, but you are a winner."

My thumb continues to brush the skin of her cheek. Her cheeks still bare scratches from the long falls. The bags under her eyes tell stories of sleepless nights and plaguing nightmares (of which I have heard whimpers of). Her skin is so rough, the hairs so fine, but somehow it holds it all together. Scarred, scratched, bruised, but still together.

Her gaze watches my hand move along her cheek, and with teach tender stroke I see something dawn across her face. Some emotion I cannot decipher, for every emotion lately has been dulled by her own suffering. She does not smile, she does not tease. But she does feel, feel something. Maybe she senses that I care for her, maybe she can tell how much I want her to trust me.

And though the silence again covers us, Korra does not close up. She begins to cry, quietly. Her shoulders shake weakly, and Korra breaks down one wall that she has been clamming up in those two weeks. Her expression screams stay with me, and I have no intention of leaving her.

It's difficult to embrace someone in a wheelchair, but it's never been hard to hug Korra. My arms wrap around her shoulders, and her head slumps into my shoulder, and she sobs her heart out.

"There's no shame in healing, Korra. There's nothing wrong with taking some time out to heal. You're not broken, just a little chipped. You need time, and that's okay. And even if you were broken, we'd spend the rest of forever finding pieces that would bring you back together."


End file.
